A Screaming Whisper
by LonelyxLover42
Summary: Harry Potter is on his final voyage to Hogwarts. The challenges he faces are the toughest yet. Now, he must face Voldemort and many other with, or without his friends to back him up.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own any of the characters within this FanFic. All characters belong to J.K Rowling._

Finally, the summer months were coming to a close. Harry Potter closed his Potions text softly, not wanting to wake up his aunt and uncle. He had three days, and only three days, to complete every one of his essays and reports for school. A majority of them, of course, were from Professor Snape. After extinguishing the tip of his wand, Harry slipped himself under the covers. _This is going to be one hell of a year,_ he thought closing his eyes.

"Wake up!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he glared at his doorway, the shriek from his Aunt seemed to slide under the door to awake him. Grasping the rim of his glasses, he placed them on the bridge of his nose, and stood up slowly. He felt light-headed slightly, going from a lying down position to standing, but he quickly overcame that. He shivered as he stood there in his navy boxers. Looking around for a clean shirt, he walked over to the dresser and pulled out a black polo. Looking at his Potions text, he shook his head thinking about all the essays he still had to write for Snape. Throwing on some old jeans, he left his room and headed down the stairs.

Aunt Petunia was standing at the bottom of the stairs, glaring at him as he walked by her.

"What took you so long? Your uncle and I have been waiting to discus... you know, with you," she snapped.

Harry raised an eyebrow and stared at her before walking into the kitchen and taking a muffin from the plate on the counter. Sitting down on a chair, he extended his feet to the chair in front of him, resting them there lazily. "Get up," came the voice of his uncle.

"What is your problem boy? Don't you have any common sense?"

Harry didn't know what he was talking about, and just stared at him.

"You were practicing m--- ma-.."

"Magic?"

"Be quite, boy. Yes, magic. What have we told you all these years? Never. Practice. Magic."

The lecture seemed to drag on forever, and Harry found himself barely listening. He just wanted to get back to his Potions work and finish that all by the time he went to bed. After being dismissed, Harry had to promise not to touch his wand until he was at school. shutting his door, and locking it, he cast a silencing charm on the door and windows in his room. He summoned his book, parchment, ink and quills and set off to work.

Three hours had passed since Harry Potter locked himself in his room, and the progress was definitely visible. He had finished all seven of his potions essays, a History of Magic assignment and was working on his Defense Against the Dark Arts project now. It was noon now, and Harry decided some fresh air was in order. Exiting his room, he left the house and walked outside down the small road. It was odd, he thought, that there was never a lot of traffic on any of the roads near Privet Drive. It was quiet, and he liked it.

Harry's head snapped towards the sound of Dudley and his gang approaching. Ducking himself behind a small bush, he peered around looking at them. Who was that new member? Was it.. a girl? When did Dudley have any female with his gang? He stared closely at her, trying to see if he recognized her from the neighborhood. She was pretty gorgeous, if he did say so himself. He blonde hair was pulled back, revealing her face and her stunning gray eyes. _That's odd. Gray eyes? _He never knew of a muggle with gray eyes, but he decided that it was probably a common thing. Her body was perfectly developed in all the right places and he couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before snapping back to reality.

The group headed towards the vandalized playground centered in the rows of streets. Dudley began to harass the girl, probably the oaf's way of flirting, Harry later decided. It didn't seem like they planned on leaving anytime soon, so Harry stood up and walked by the gang, ignoring them, trying not to look over at the gorgeous being in Dudley's possession. Blocking out the taunts and nasty remarks, he kept walking around the corner and over to a stone wall he liked to walk. Hopping upon it, he started walking down the stones, kick off the loose ones into the street and into peoples lawns.

Walking the same stone wall five consecutive times can get rather dull and boring, so he set off back to Number 4, and to finish his Transfiguration and Herbology work so he'd have tomorrow to get to the Burrow.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Gee, thanks for the reviews, I actually like, considered just writing this for like, my own entertainment until I decided posting it up here. Comments are always welcome!

Disclaimer: I do no, in any way, shape, or form, own anything of the Harry Potter series.

The worn comforter and sheets lay at the end of the bed with Harry's trunk propped on top of them. So far, a few books, his cloaks, robes, and quills were the only contents. Within the hour, however, his trunk would be bulging, and it's be in desperate need of a feather-light charm.

Dudley grunted as he walked by the open door. Harry wasn't sure if his cousin saw him in the park, but it sure seemed like it. Harry didn't mind, however. His mind wandered back to the image of that girl that was with him.

_She's to.. to gorgeous to be with them._ He thought quickly, loading his other books and some muggle clothes, all of which were far to large, into the trunk.

_It is unbelievable how someone so gorgeous could be with someone so... not,_ he continued to think.

A loud and repeated thud-thud-thud notified Harry that his Uncle was coming up the stairs for one of their 'heart-to-hearts'

"What in god's name are you doing boy? It's only 7:45 in the morning! Can't you keep it down?"

Harry just stared at his uncle. _What the hell is he talking about? I haven't made a single sound this entire morning. _

This was complete rubbish. Harry Potter was only awake for thirty-five minutes. There's no way he could cause enough racquet to cause his uncle to come upstairs. Not this early, any way.

"Uncle Vernon, I'm... There hasn't been a single reason for you to come up here. Now please, leave. I'm getting ready to leave," he shot at him.

The large man just stared down upon Harry. Surely he didn't plan on leaving the house. How did he plan on leaving? There was no way in hell that Vernon or Petunia was going to drive him to the station.

"You will leave this house only when I allow it. Do you understand? Until then, clean up this room. It looks as if a ruddy storm passed through. Your breakfast will be ready in half an hour."

And with that Vernon Dursley turned and strutted out of view. Harry just shrugged. _Breakfast, eh? Breakfast, or a piece of old bread and a small glass of water?_ He pulled on a sweater that Mrs. Weasley gave him, loaded a few more things into his trunk, and picked up his wand. He was of age so why not just use the easy way out of things?

Waving his wand quickly, the entire room sprang to life. Papers were stacking themselves and placing themselves on his desk. Books were hovering to the shelves, and his clothes were either folding themselves and getting put into a dresser, or floating to a hamper and plopping right in.

"GET DOWN HERE! NOW!" he heard shriek up the stairs.

_Here we go again_ he thought, remembering yesterday's early wake-up call. Shrugging his shoulders he made his way out the bedroom door, wand in pocket, and down the stairs. The glass of the windows were extremely bright this morning, and Harry squinted his eyes as he enter the kitchen.

"You called?" he asked dully, not wanting to be in the kitchen with his "family" at that moment.

"Breakfast is ready. Eat and go get cleaned up. We have company coming over at noon," his aunt barked.

Harry smiled to himself quickly and noted that his prediction was once again correct as an old piece of bread and glass of water were set down in front of him. Taking a bite out of his meal, he stared around the table, noticing his surroundings.

Dudley was half on, half off, the chair, gazing at the screen of his television set. Some dull magic show it appeared to be. Harry rolled his eyes and moved around the table. Uncle Vernon had the daily post propped up against his tall glass of orange juice, and all you could see was the top of his brown hat. _Typical,_ thought Harry. Aunt Petunia was standing at the sink, cracking eggs, mixing flour and other ingredients, making what appeared to be a chocolate cake.

Finishing the last of his bread, he set the plate down on the counter and headed upstairs. He had his daily presence of the Dursley's for the day. Honestly, he was glad that he was leaving. All he had left to do was to make one quick check before apparating off to Ron's house.


End file.
